Twelve Days
by Slyer
Summary: Whoohoo, creative title, non? Anyway, twelve shorts, celebrating the season of giving.
1. Twelfth

_On the Twelfth_

Papers, papers, photographs of wanted criminals, and more papers. Granted, she loved reading, but having to do so much in so little time... It was a wonder Sheska didn't simply collapse.

Some days it was easier to concentrate when it came to work, while some were equally difficult. She dreaded those days. Her job was to file criminal related articles for the military, not look at photographs of little girls in bathing suits!

Thinking of such, Sheska sighed as she heard the entrance of one Maes Hughes. No doubt to flaunt about his daughter again. Elysia was adorable and all, but Sheska could only take so much...

"How are you today, Sheska? Not too busy, are you?"

How could he be so _happy_ all the time?

Sheska tried not to, but she sighed before answering. "I'm fine, Sir. And you?" She didn't look up from her work; the papers had been piling up recently and she didn't want to neglect them.

"I'm great, in fact..." She heard the sound of something shuffling. She dreaded that sound when it was associated with Hughes and his photograph collection. However... "Here you go, some new files for you to work on so you don't get bored."

Pictures would have been better. Instead she had twelve, large, new files to spend her time on.

"Thank you, Sir..."

_Twelve weighty files..._

* * *

**a brief note, yo:** These have no timeline, whatsoever, aaand... some of them are kinda weird because of the numbers. Keep that in mind, ya? These aremostly for my amusement, and a bit for yours. Mostly mine, though. Tu n'aime pas, fine, go ahead and n'aime pas. Constructive critism is nice. It hurts, way down, but it's nice, and makes me a better writer, which I like. Oui, j'aime la. ((Anyone who speaks French, forgive me if my rudimentary French skills murder you withtheir patheticness))

**a brief disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, nor do I own Christmas, or the Twelve Days of Christmas song. I should hope that's pretty obvious.


	2. Eleventh

_On the Eleventh_

She was feared, to put it simply. Fortunately, it was a respectful fear; people didn't run screaming as soon as they saw her, they just treated her as she deserved to be treated. Being as strict as she was helped. That and her marksmanship.

Riza Hawkeye practiced daily, shooting whenever she found the time to go to the range and do so. Despite others' belief that she was good enough already, she knew she wouldn't stay that way by doing nothing.

Over time she had gotten better, centimeter by centimeter, becoming deadlier and deadlier as she practiced. She went through targets daily; within the first two shots she had killed the human shaped form twice, once through the head, another through the chest. Afterwards, it simply became a task of killing the nonlivingobject again and again. By the time she left for the day she had put a rather large dent in the range's supplies.

Unfortunately, the range was having trouble keeping up with her. Those in charge of stocking the targets finally told her, _very_ politely, to buy her own.

This didn't amuse Riza. At all.

Those other subordinates of Roy Mustang knew it. She became stricter, in their experienced opinions, as a way to express her annoyance.

A few days afterwards, Riza Hawkeye, sharpshooter, received a package of brand new, durable targets on her desk. With no question, reprimand, or comment, she set them aside, continued her work for the day, and took them to the shooting range as soon as she was free.

_Eleven brand new targets..._

* * *

Something I just thought of, but, the characters may seem a bit off to you. I haven't had the privelage of seeing the entire anime yet, though I follow the manga like... something... And a few of the secondary characters are hard to get a strong knowledge of personality out of, at least for me. And if you didn't notice, pleasepretend I didn't mention anything and continue on obliviously. 


	3. Tenth

_On the Tenth_

"If Hawkeye catches you with that you'll get in trouble."

Jean Havoc shrugged carelessly, refusing to put out the cigarette he had just lit. "Eh."

"You should quit, those things'll kill you if you don't."

Havoc snorted before continuing with his work. Everyone was always trying to persuade him to quit, usually with threats. Occasionally he got a bribe, but those didn't work, either. Nope, he was addicted, and he was perfectly fine with it.

In fact, he was perfectly fine with everything at the moment.

"Smoking isn't allowed in here. If you must, wait until your break and go outside."

Okay, ignore the previous statement of 'perfectly fine.'

Havoc took the cigarette out of his mouth and watched Hawkeye pause in the doorway before continuing by. He waited a few moments before tapping the ash off the end and replacing it in his mouth.

A few excruciatingly short seconds later, the cigarette was pulled out and crushed in the ashtray by an annoyed looking Riza. "What did I just tell you?"

Havoc paused for a few seconds before shrugging. "Smoking isn't allowed."

Riza stared at him, unfazed by his nonchalance. "So why are you smoking?"

Again he shrugged, though this time he didn't answer.

After a few more tense seconds, during which everyone else in the room stared, Riza turned on her heel and exited the room.

Ten minutes later Havoc was smoking again.

The next day, he couldn't find his packs of cigarettes, and his lighter had gone missing. He was in the middle of searching for them when a deliveryman came in and placed ten boxes of nicotine patches on his desk before promptly leaving.

_Ten packs of NicoDerm®...

* * *

_

No, I don't own NicoDerm_®_. Just thought you might like to know.


	4. Ninth

_On the Ninth_

Maes Hughes was having a bad day; he couldn't find his camera.

Quite a few people in Central were secretly glad when he came in asking if they had seen it. Like Sheska, for instance.

"Hey, Sheska, have you seen my camera? Elysia got this new dress, and it's so adorable I _have_ to take a picture to show you guys, but I can't seem to find my camera."

The bookworm, though bursting with glee inside at the thought that maybe, just maybe, this could spell the end of the pictures, looked concerned. "No, Sir, I haven't. Maybe someone else has, though."

Hughes seemed to ponder the answer for a moment before shrugged and heading off with a wave. "Oh well, keep an eye out for it, will ya?"

Sheska smiled, rather forcibly, at the retreating figure. "Of course, Sir." Once he was gone, she slumped into a grateful sigh.

However, Hughes was far from done. He questioned everyone he came across, whether he recognized them or not. Or vice versa, for that matter.

He depended on that camera, he needed to show Elysia to the world! If he couldn't, his daughter would go unnoticed! He couldn't let that happen!

Unfortunately for him, by the time his shift was over he hadn't found his camera. And so, he left for home, rather dejected that he couldn't get any photos of his wonderful daughter.

Entering his home, he was about to begin searching for his camera when Gracia stopped him.

"Oh, Dear, I went shopping today, and I noticed you were almost out of film. So I took your camera to get some more." She presented the camera and the rolls of film with a smile.

Hughes's face lit up dramatically as he willingly took the camera and rolls with a girlish squeal of delight. "Ooh! Thank you, Honey! Now I just need to find Elysia..." With that he was off, homing in on his daughter to take new photos to share with everyone in Central.

_Nine Rolls of Film..._


	5. Eighth

_On the Eighth_

"_Worthless..."_

He was _not_ worthless! Never! He would not admit to something like that!

Except... Maybe in the rain...

Fine, Roy Mustang would admit, very grudgingly and to himself, that in the rain he was relatively worthless. But only to himself, and only relatively.

He could still fight, though. He wouldn't just stop and become a hindrance to everyone. Or, he wouldn't if it was left up to him. Riza tended to get in the way of his attempts... As if that weren't bad enough, everyone _needed_ to explain exactly _why_ he was worthless when it was raining.

As if he didn't know how his own alchemy worked.

He resented every time he was called worthless, mostly because he didn't believe it. No, his goals were too big for him to think he was worthless.

Except in the rain.

One day in the office, after another rainy day, he was pondering a way to get around not being able to make a spark. He had just moved to the idea of toting an umbrella around when Havoc came up and dropped a slightly used matchbook on his desk. Roy stared at it for a second before looking up. "What's that for?"

Havoc shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe you won't be so worthless in the rain." With that he wandered back to his own station.

Roy watched him go with a glare before quickly pocketing the matchbook.

Psh, he wasn't worthless.

_Eight Unused Matches..._


	6. Seventh

_On the Seventh_

It was a beautiful day, with birds chirping, cats meowing, and dogs howling to the tune of sirens blaring in the background. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and the clouds were scuttling back and forth across the sky. What could there be to do other than to just enjoy the gorgeous weather?

Pride was off somewhere, being all mysterious (and likely bragging about his mysterious skills).

Wrath was incognito in Central as a certain high ranked official.

Greed wasn't really anywhere, as he had recently been disposed of by 'Father.'

Envy was off causing havoc by taking on the likenesses of some important people and twisting affairs up.

Sloth was still chained to that rock, lazy as ever, possibly hoping it would be destroyed by moss sometime in the next few centuries.

Lust was investigating something, and was wandering somewhere in the countryside towards her destination.

And Gluttony was hungry.

The rotund homunculus was alone at that moment, making his way back to the homunculi's cozy little lair. He would rather have followed Lust, but she said she had important business to attend to and that he couldn't accompany her. So, he decided to try Father for company.

On his way he stole a bite to eat at every food stand, but none of it really helped satiate his appetite. If he could he would have quickly and easily taken the entire stand, cart and all, but Lust had told him not to do that, it would attract too much attention and it would give him a stomachache. So he didn't. Lust didn't even need to given him reasons, he'd listen.

After awhile of snacking, he ducked into the alleyway that housed the door to their cozy little lair before freezing in his tracks. Nestled carefully so as to be hidden from passersby and tied together with a few ribbons was several turkeys and a card. It was some kind of holiday card made out to the Seven Deadly Sins, but Gluttony didn't care who it was for, let alone whether it was Happy Easter, Merry Christmas, or Happy St. Patrick's Day. All Gluttony cared about was the turkeys, which vanished very quickly.

_Seven Turkey Dinners..._

* * *

I didn't plan on a homunculus day, buuuut... things in the future days were getting difficult and museless, so I rearranged and added this in. I enjoyed it. And once again, in case you're confused, I know manga. Yes, I know who Pride is in the anime, but in the manga, he is Wrath. I have known him as Wrath longer than as Pride, so I'm sticking with that. Anyway, I'm hoping you're enjoying it, because I'm having fun.


	7. Sixth

_On the Sixth_

Barry the Chopper was only capable of focusing on a game for so long. He could finish something short and simple if he wanted to, but most frequently he abandoned whatever he was playing after ten or so minutes.

It was driving Vato Falman into boredom induced insanity.

With the order to stay where he was and make sure the butcher didn't run off and butcher someone, there was little to do but eat, sleep, and play board games. It didn't help that his only visitors, the ones bringing him food every so often, stayed for little more than a minute or two, so as to help keep attention away from the officer and criminal in hiding.

Chess was out, as Falman either won quickly or Barry gave up and started chatting amicably about meat, cuts, and the twenty some people that had become such. Backgammon, checkers, nothing really caught his attention, other than Chinese checkers, anyway. The oriental game was a winner, Barry could, and did, play it for hours on end, so frequently Falman had gotten tired of it and given up.

He expressed his grief to Havoc one day as the other officer stopped by with a deposit of edible supplies.

"Has Mustang said when I can come back yet?"

Havoc shrugged. "Nope."

Falman sighed. "He's driving me insane," said in reference to the suit of armor playing, and winning, Chinese checkers with himself, "I need something to do, Havoc, something not involving _him_."

Havoc shrugged again and left.

Falman sighed and went back to Chinese checkers.

Included in the next batch of food was one of Gracia Hughes' apple pies and a deck of playing cards with rules for a few single player games. Falman accepted it and sat down to a solitary game of solitaire and a piece of pie.

_Six brand new card games..._

* * *

The first time I typed this one up I accidently put Elicia's pie, instead of Gracia's, and I thought I had messed it up on one I had already submitted. I was all panicking until I found out I hadn't submitted it yet. I think I would have died if I had... And, once again, manga, yo. Things with Barry turn out way different there. Yeah. 


	8. Fifth

_On the Fifth_

Ugh, dogs... Evil, filthy, possessed things... Breda hated the things. Bad past experiences. Yep.

When Fuery had brought that dog in, everyone had learned of his hatred for them. Of course, everyone had misinterpreted it as _fear._ Yeah right. Breda wasn't _afraid_ of the stupid things. He just didn't like them. That's all it was.

Really.

"_Hey_, Breda, watch out, there's a dog under your desk."

"Shuddup."

"Aw, if you give them doggie treats they won't hurt you, you know."

"..."

His coworkers could get so irritating.

"Hey, I need someone to feed my dog while I'm visiting my family, wanna do it for me, Breda?"

"..."

If they would just stop it...

"Were you a mailman in a past life, or something? I can't really see why you'd be so scared of dogs, they're harmless."

Again with the 'scared.' "I am _not_ afraid of dogs! They're _evil_, that's all!"

"So they're monsters?"

Finally someone understood! "Exactly!"

Or... Maybe not...

The note on the box of pepper spray didn't have a name. All it said was, "To keep those 'monsters' away."

Oh how Breda hated dogs...

_Five Cans of Mace..._

* * *

I originally intended to do Armstrong as 5, and Breda as 7, but I couldn't write something for Armstrong to save my life o.O


	9. Fourth

_On the Fourth_

So much to do, so little to do it with. That was one of the things Winry Rockbell lamented over. Her tools never seemed to be in enough abundance or quality (at least in her opinion). In her view of things, to get better at her job required that her tools were better, which was something that required a large source of income.

Enter Edward Elric. Though not necessarily large height-wise, he was certainly a source of income.

"Winry, don't you have your _own_ money to spend?"

Winry clutched the alchemist's wrist and dug her heels into the ground to slow down so she could gaze longingly at the various metal objects in a display window. _"No..._ And besides, this is like paying me, so slow down so I can pick some out, Ed."

Ed pulled ahead, dragging the mechanic behind him as she struggled to stay by the display window. "No, I already got you stuff last time you were here. And why should I buy you something for you to chuck at me, anyway?" He was jerked to a halt as Winry pulled the opposite way. The glare on her face was so intense he immediately regretted the comment, though for his own sake and safety rather than her feelings.

"_Why?_ Because if you don't I'll beat you with the ones I already have." She glared a bit more before dragging Ed back and into the store she had been gazing in.

When they left it was with a pleasantly heavy bag of expensively lovely tools she hadn't needed to pay for.

_Four Brand New Tools_


	10. Third

_On the Third_

"You're too nice, Master Sergeant."

But he had been sitting out all alone in the rain! What else could he have done?

Master Sergeant Kain Fuery sighed. At least the dog had found a home with Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Maybe he was too nice. He couldn't help but pity any and all stray animals, dogs and cats alike. They all seemed so sad and alone. If the dorms would only allow pets... Fuery had mentioned that once, more to himself, but the reply he got was, "If the dorms allowed pets you'd have every stray in Central."

True or false? Sadly, very true, and Fuery knew it. But sometimes knowing he had a problem wasn't quite enough.

He carried around some dog treats some days, and for every stray dog he saw he doled out one, and he'd stop to pet every cat he saw. If it was raining, he'd help it find a dry place (though he had learned not to take them to the nice and dry dorms).

This evening alone he'd stopped to comfort four or five dogs and a cat. After that he decided that was enough for the night, but three of the dogs continued following him like overgrown ducklings following their mother. Edward Elric's comment resurfaced and Fuery sighed.

"I _am_ too nice..."

_Three Stray Dogs..._


	11. Second

_On the Second_

Alphonse Elric was a man of steel with a heart of goose down. Almost literally, as he was made of steel but wasn't really a man, more a child, and he didn't have a physical heart, just a soul, so the goose down was simply a figure of speech. A very apt figure of speech, nonetheless.

Always soft-spoken, Alphonse rarely got into an argument, though occasionally he could and would. Whether or not something was a good idea, some philosophical questions that needed answering, cats... Sometimes he just couldn't agree with others when it came to such subjects. But that goose down analogy still applied because he always argued with his thoughts on the well-being of others.

Currently the argument was for the well-being of a couple of felines.

"Come on Al, put them back where you found them."

"But Brother! If I do they'll get wet and hungry and cold and lost and..."

"Al..."

"And then they might die and then their family will miss them and..."

"Alphonse..."

"_Please_ Brother, don't make me take them back!"

"You have to because we can't take care of them. Besides, what stops their family from missing them when you abduct them?"

"... But... They were all alone... and..."

"So what says they have a family, huh?"

"..."

"Go put them back, Al..."

There was a long pause before Alphonse said, very grudgingly, "... Fine..." After another brief pause he plodded away with the sound on metal grating upon itself and the quiet accompaniment of mewing.

_Two Lost Kittens..._

* * *

this one was hard to write... sorry if it's really weird...


	12. First

_On the First_

Oh, ha ha, this was hilarious. Freaking hilarious. Oh, but he'd be smiling a lot more when his fist connected with someone's face. That'd be funny.

But first, he'd have to trace everything back to the source. Sure, Armstrong had done it, but someone must have convinced the Major that he wouldn't have a problem with the action.

The problem was, Edward Elric _did_ have a problem with it.

It may have been Hughes, but part of Ed doubted the father figure would really be that cruel. On purpose, anyway. A few short seconds after he thought of Hughes as the culprit he scratched the idea.

It could have been someone like Havoc or Breda, maybe they would think pulling a stunt like this was funny. But again, he removed them from the suspect list.

Which left Mustang. Or Hawkeye, but the thought of Hawkeye coming up with it was incredibly unlikely, so Ed didn't even consider her.

But Mustang... There was no reason the colonel wouldn't degrade Edward in any possible way. Calling him short day in and day out was bad enough for the young alchemist, but apparently not for Mustang. No, there was never enough for Mustang.

Ed shifted, adamant in his suspicions, to stop a branch that was currently stabbing him in the back. He sighed, looked down, and pondered a way out of his predicament. He was a little too stuck to simple jump out of the tree without catching on a branch and rolling the whole, unpleasantly spiky way down, but the branches were also a tad bit flimsy yet to just climb down. With another resigned sigh, Ed admitted his defeat (only to himself, he would never admit something like that out loud) and decided to wait for Armstrong to come back and fetch him out. At least being stuck in the tree gave him ample opportunity to plan revenge.

_And a Shorty in a Pine Tree._

* * *

Well, it's done. It's not Christmas anymore, but it's done. I could spout off my usual excuses, but I won't bother, cause they're not very good. This isn't the greatest, all twelve have their weak spots (open fiiire! perfect for constructive critisism, yo, just not too harsh XD) BUT! I can now say I completed something. For the first time in my internet career, I can say I completed something. And the cat on my arm is seriously not helping...

ANYWAY! I hope you enjoyed it, thank you my few reviewers for reviewing, it makes me happy and bouncy without the normal required caffeine!


End file.
